Page 97 of Don't Brake My Heart
Chapter 36
Leesa
The finish area was a crush of bikes and bodies, media crew and support staff and heaving, exhausted riders. Squeezing through the crowd, I kept my desperate gaze on the tall figure of Chris, the swannie, up ahead, pushing people out of the way as he barrelled towards the finish line.
My cheeks were cold with tears. I’d barely been able to watch Colin drag himself up the mountain. Right now I just had to get to him, make sure he was all right and then kiss him andshakehim for a stunt that had taken years off my life – and inspired so much pride and heat and admiration I didn’t know what to do with it.
Chris parted the crowd just in time for me to see him with his head bowed over the handlebars, up out of the saddle, pushing once, twice, and toppling over the finish line, unclipping a foot to catch himself.
God, he’d done it. I only hoped it hadn’t cost him too much.
He fell right onto his ass when he dismounted, leaving Nellie to grab the bikes while Chris dragged Colin to one side. He glugged down a recovery drink and then most of a bidon, scrunching his face up with pain as his body slowly wound down.
I stared at him, taking in all the familiar lines of his face, the freckles that only showed up when he was bathed in sweat. I didn’t know what I was going to do when I couldn’t see his face every day. That was the thought that propelled me forward, even though I didn’t know what was best for either of us – or if he even wanted to see me.
‘Colin.’
His gaze snapped up. Despite his exhaustion, he straightened, lifting a shaking hand to my hair as I crashed to my knees in front of him.
‘Colin.’
I finally had his face in my hands, his name on my lips and tears streaming down my face.
‘Shhh,’ he responded, a smile tugging at his lips. ‘C’mere, Kubicka,’ he rasped, curling his hand into my hair and pulling me closer.
This was my kiss at the finish line, aching and fearful, tender, sweeping and heady. His breath on my lips was choppy, his hand stayed tight on my head, holding me where I was as he used all his remaining energy to keep his mouth on mine, sharing adrenaline, endorphins – that moment in time that was only ours and would always be ours.
No matter what happened, how much this hurt when I left, I was glad I loved him – right now.
It couldn’t last. He probably shouldn’t have used his last energy for a kiss anyway and when he drew away with a groan, blinking as though he was trying not to black out, I felt faintly guilty.
He opened his mouth to speak, mumbling groggy words that were not what I expected. ‘Have we ever held hands?’
Flashes from the past few weeks rose in my mind, but not one where we’d done that. ‘I don’t think so.’
I was about to ask him why he wanted to know, offer to hold his hand, but he continued, ‘Like those jellyfish, the ones that are made up of different creatures holding hands.’
Perhaps he wasn’t entirely conscious. ‘A siphonophore?’ I clarified, peering at him in concern. ‘They don’t exactly hold hands.’
His eyelids drifted closed and he leaned back on the barrier behind him. ‘You’re so fucking clever. That’s exactly what I mean.’
‘Colin, why are you talking about jellyfish?’
He didn’t answer, but Chris spoke, interrupting whatever the moment had been. ‘We should get him to a hospital.’
*
My fingernails were bitten-down stubs and I’d only been able to swallow two bites of dinner. Amir, who’d grabbed another bike and just managed to finish within the time cut, Derek, Nellie and the others had all been subdued as they tried to eat as well.
Now I was pacing my room, wondering who I should call to find answers and peering out of my window – not at the darkened silhouettes of the mountains but at the street, waiting for a team car to return either with or without Colin.
When a vehicle finally pulled up, I pressed my nose to the pane, fogging the glass as I tried to identify who was getting out. I needn’t have worried. I’d have recognised those shoulders anywhere.
He was walking. No sign of a bandage – or a cast. He was back at the hotel – surrounded by Angie and the medical staff, but he was back.
My vision blurred for a moment with relief. But it didn’t mean he was still in the Tour.
I would be heartbroken for him if he had to abandon and I would have been crossing everything for him if I’d been as superstitious as the average cyclist. But my parents were doctors and would be horrified at me crossing any body part for a medical outcome, so all I could do was prepare myself to be heartbrokenwithhim, if that’s the answer he’d gotten.
